In The Shadows
by 2Old4This2
Summary: There are things in the galaxy that terrify even the strongest of women. What is it that makes Princess Leia Organa's blood run cold? Happy Halloween everyone!


_A huge thank you goes to StatsGrandma57 and jublke for there invaluable help with this story._

**In The Shadows**

_A _**Star****Wars**_ Fan Fiction_

Maybe Han was right, Leia thought sadly, there was entirely too much white in her wardrobe. She shifted through one snowy garment after another, looking for something that was both comfortable and colorful. Leia knew that Han preferred it when she wore colors, and as a newlywed, she was still at that eager to please him stage—it had such delightful benefits.

Leia glanced down at the long, white, ministerial robes she was wearing; white was an occupational hazard. Of course, Han's choice of wardrobe wasn't much better. His side of the closet was filled with dark colored pants, light colored shirts, and an assortment of jackets and vests covered with pockets designed to hold gloves, tools, or deadly weapons—one of his occupational hazards, she supposed. Her eyes sparked at the thought that tonight neither she nor her husband would be in their clothes long enough for the color to matter!

She hadn't seen her husband in eight days. Eight days! To Leia, it felt like forever. The _Falcon_ should have been back yesterday, but, of course, Han and Chewie had been delayed. Leia was relieved that the hold-up hadn't been due to one of the freighter's chronic malfunctions. Neither had they been attacked by pirates nor Imperial hold-outs, thank the Maker. No, the delay was due to business, pure and simple. The owner of the cargo had reneged on the agreed upon price, and Han had had to spend an extra day alternating between looking for another payload, and bullying the original customer into paying what was owed. In the end, the welsher paid the agreed upon price, plus a penalty for delaying the shipment. Even better, in Leia's mind, was the fact that no one had shot at Han, Chewbacca, or the _Millennium Falcon._ All in all, it had been a successful business venture—hopefully the first of many.

Hangers clanked together as Leia moved business attire out of the way. There, that was just what she was looking for! She reached far in the back and pulled out an outfit that was both vibrant and relaxed, which was just what Minister Leia Organa Solo needed after a long day spent helping to cobble together a New Republic. And, she knew that it was a little bit sexy, too, which was just what Captain Han Solo needed after an eight day long business trip. She kicked off her shoes, and pulled the white robe over her head. Leia tossed it carelessly on the bed as she headed for the 'fresher, pulling pins out of her heavy braids as she went.

Twenty minutes later, Leia was clean, dry, and smelled of ladalum flowers. Her hair hung loose, trailing down past her waist to her hips. A soft, cream-colored band threaded behind her ears, holding her heavy brown tresses away from her face. She stepped into a silky pair of zoosha pants, patterned in swirling colors of cream, emerald, and sapphire, then dropped a sleeveless tunic of sapphire blue over her head. The only jewelry she wore was the Corellian firegem ring Han had given her on their wedding day. She had opted for no earrings, they just got in the way. Her feet were bare.

Leia checked her chrono; if Han was on time, he would be home any minute now. All that was left to do was to dismiss Threepio for the evening. She hoped the droid had fixed something for their dinner. His cooking wasn't exemplary—it tended toward the simple and safe—but it was better than hers. Whatever it was, Leia was sure she could reheat it. That is, if they ever got around to eating. She smiled at the thought.

As she headed toward the door, Leia caught sight of her reflection in the bedroom mirror. She wasn't a vain woman, but she was a human one, and she wanted to look her best. Looking over her ensemble, her face fell. Damn, but she hated being short! The loose tunic hung halfway down her thighs; Leia thought it made her look like a little girl wearing her mother's clothes. She pulled, twisted, and adjusted the soft blue material, not happy with any of the changes. Then she remembered a silky cord belt, the same color as her headband. That would do it, she thought. It would shorten the tunic, just a little, and it would highlight her waist—and the curve of her breasts. She wouldn't look like a little girl then!

Leia shoved more clothes out of the way as she reached into the very back of the closet, but she couldn't find the belt. Grabbing a luma, she shone the light into the dark corner. Ah, there was the belt, right next to a huge, ugly—

Spider! Its faintly luminescent body and long, articulated legs reflected eerily in Leia's light.

Leia shrieked, a horrible, high-pitched wail of a sound she'd virtually never uttered, not even while she was being tortured by Darth Vader. With a gulp, she backed across the room, as far away from the closet as she could get. She didn't understand it; she certainly couldn't explain it, but ever since she could remember, Leia had been terrified of glow-spiders. Those legs, that sickly glimmer…

"Mistress Leia!" Threepio rapped on the closed bedroom door. "Mistress Leia, are you in need of assistance? I thought I heard you scream, though I suppose I could have been mistaken. Do you want me to come in?" he dithered politely.

"Threepio! Get in here now!" A droid, Leia thought with relief, wouldn't be afraid of a spider. She would tell Threepio to get rid of it, then leave. Han would never need to know about her phobia, because, now that she was thinking about it, he would never let her live this performance down.

The bedroom door slid open and the golden protocol droid shuffled in. Somehow his photoreceptors managed to express confusion and a certain affrontedness at Leia's less than polite summons.

"Princess Leia, are you ill or injured?" he asked her solicitously, when he saw her cowering in the far corner of the room.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "It's just…" Leia paused and took a calming breath. "Threepio, I need you to do something for me."

"I will do anything in my power, Mistress Leia."

"Take the light and shine it in the back of the closet," she directed him.

Threepio dutifully shone the light into the closet.

"All the way back, on the right," she continued. "Do you see it? I need you to—"

"Aaagh! A glow-spider! Aaagh!" the droid wailed.

"Threepio!" Leia barked at him. "I need you to get it out of the closet for me." Suddenly, Leia felt embarrassed in front of the droid. "I'm, uh, I'm allergic," she lied.

"Aaagh!" Threepio squealed again. "I can't," he shuddered. "It's…it's contrary to my programming." The droid's lie wasn't any better than Leia's.

"You've done plenty of things that aren't in your primary programming," Leia pointed out. She was arguing with a droid about a spider. Leia wondered just how low she'd sunk. "I can't do it," she told him. That wasn't a lie—as long as he didn't question her reasons.

Threepio headed for the door of the apartment with incredible speed. "I'll go and fetch help, Princess," he called as he exited the flat. "I'll get Master Luke, or maybe Master Lando is available." His voice trailed down the hallway. "Maybe Captain Solo and Chewbacca have arrived."

"No," Leia yelled after him, "don't get Han!" But the droid was already gone; Leia heard the door for the lift tube open and close, even before the apartment door slid shut.

Leia stood in the corner of the bedroom and stared at the open closet door. This is ridiculous, she told herself. I've fought stormtroopers, I've blown TIE fighters out of the sky, I've withstood torture, I've been shot. Hells, I strangled Jabba the Hutt! I'm a strong, intelligent woman. I can get a spider out of my closet. She stood straight, squared her shoulders, and took one resolute step forward. She froze in her tracks and shuddered.

"Or I can run past the closet door, slam it shut, and cower in the living room like a frightened nerf calf," she said. "Yeah, that's a plan."

But she still didn't move. Han would be home any minute. He'd been gone for eight days, the last thing he needed when he got home was a hysterical wife. Besides, Leia didn't want him to know she was a coward. Okay, she would get the spider and Han would never be the wiser.

Leia looked down at her bare feet, then she imagined eight wriggling, glowing legs. Nope, there was no way she was going to go after a glow-spider with bare feet, and all of her shoes were in the closet. Well, except for the pair she'd worn today; she'd just use those. Unfortunately, they were laying in the open closet doorway.

_Kriff! _There had to be another way. Leia remembered she had a pair of boots in the front hallway cabinet. She hadn't used them in a while—she had been spending all of her time in planning meetings, not off planet—but she was sure they were still there. Yeah, that would work. She'd get the boots, and get something to kill the spider with, and be done before Han came home.

Five minutes later she was ready. The spacer boots came up almost to her knees, covering the thin fabric of her pants. In her hand, Leia held a large, long handled spatula. She'd considered getting her hold-out blaster from the safebox, but thought better of it. They'd lose their security deposit if she blew a hole in the closet wall.

Leia was just preparing her assault on the closet when she heard the front door slide open. Please, please, please! Let that be Threepio with some solution to this whole mess!

"Hey, Leia! Sweetheart?"

Leia heard a soft thud as Han's flight bag hit the floor, then the sound of his booted feet as he moved through their flat.

"Leia!" Han called again, "are you home?" He sounded disappointed, and just a little bit irritated.

"I'm in the bedroom, Han. Just…" Leia groped desperately for a way to stall him. "Just give me a minute to change out of my work clothes."

"Oh!" Leia could hear the smile in her husband's voice. "Don't hurry. I'll be right there to help." Perhaps that hadn't been the best choice of delaying tactics, she acknowledged with a wry grin.

Okay, it was back to plan A. She threw the spatula on the bed as she moved to slam the closet door. The heavy implement slid across the silky surface of the bed clothes and onto the floor with a metallic thud, followed seconds later by the resounding thunk of the closet door slamming shut.

"Leia, are you okay? What's going on in there?" Now Han sounded more worried than eager.

"I'm fine," she called back. "Just give me a second." If she could get the boots off before Han walked in he'd never know—.

The bedroom door slid open. Han strode in, his hand hovering near his holstered blaster. He froze at the sight of his bride, leaning precariously over, tugging at a heavy utility boot. His eyes traveled upward to the silky pants and tunic she wore, then finally to the spatula on the floor next to the bed. His eyebrows lifted in curiosity and one corner of his mouth twitched upward.

"Uh, Leia?" Apparently even Han Solo couldn't come up with a witty comment for this situation.

Her boot came off with a soft popping sound. Leia stood in the middle of the room—still holding the boot—and a myriad of emotions flooded through her. Topping the list was embarrassment, followed quickly by anger, which was, in turn, chased by lust. Even now, with her romantic evening ruined by one vile pest—which shouldn't even be allowed to exist—she couldn't help but be moved by her husband's handsome features and his exceptionally attractive body.

"_Kriff," _she said succinctly. _"KRIFF!" _She threw the boot across the room and her eyes filled with hot, angry tears.

Han was across the room in two long strides. One long-fingered hand stroked Leia's hair; the other gently tilted her chin up so he could kiss her forehead. "What happened?" he asked gently.

Leia wanted to tell him how much she'd missed him, how much she'd wanted to have a romantic evening with him. "There's a glow-spider in the closet," came out instead. "I hate spiders," she added.

Han's lips twitched up again, but he carefully suppressed the smile. "Do you want me to get it?"

Leia looked away and nodded. She walked across the room and retrieved the boot she'd thrown there, then she tugged off the other one and put them both in a far corner. She avoided looking toward Han or what he was doing in the closet; preferring to study the pattern on the bedcovering until she heard the flushing sound from the 'fresher. She turned back in time to see him pick the spatula up off the floor. He was smiling now, but it wasn't the mocking smile she hated; it was that wonderful, lopsided grin she loved.

"Han, I'm so sorry. I missed you and I wanted this evening to be perfect." Once Leia started, the words just poured out; she couldn't stop them. "Then I found the _frinking_ spider in the closet." She did pause, then, and look up. "Would you believe Threepio is afraid of spiders?" she asked indignantly. "I called him to help me and he ran away screaming like a little girl."

Han laughed. "We always knew he was a coward," he said. Reluctantly, Leia joined him. She really had to.

"So after Threepio abandoned you, you were gonna get the spider yourself?" Han waved the spatula in the air.

"Just how pathetic do you think I am?" Leia's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Why?" Han put the spatula down on the nightstand and returned to stand in front of her, close enough that his breath stirred the hair on top of her bowed head. "Because you were trying to take care of something that scared you?" He ran a gentle thumb along her cheek bone. "That's not pathetic—that's just you, your Worship, being brave again."

"Even wearing spacer boots and wielding kitchen utensils?" Now that the worst was over, Leia was starting to see the humor in the situation, even if it was at her own expense.

Her husband's grin grew, brightening the whole room. "Okay, I'll admit that was pretty funny. And it's good to know that you do know how to use cooking tools."

"Thanks, hotshot!" Leia's cooking skills were legendary, and not in a good way. She looked appraisingly at her husband, thinking of all the things he'd been through since she'd known him—and things he'd hinted at that had happened to him from before that time. "I don't suppose you're afraid of anything," she said.

"Sure, I'm afraid of things," Han said. "Lots of things." His grin was moving to the self-satisfied end of the scale, Leia noted.

"Name one."

"You on a bad hair day!"

"I told you, no hair jokes, Flyboy!" Leia smacked him on the arm, none too gently.

Somehow, Han manufactured a pout that looked suspiciously like a smirk as he rubbed the spot where Leia had hit him. His point made, he let his face grow gentle again.

"Of course I'm scared of things," he reiterated. "Don't ask me what, because I'll never tell you." His smile flashed roguishly. "And you wouldn't believe half the things Chewie's afraid of!"

"It's okay to be scared, everyone is." Han kissed her on the top of her head, a kiss both reassuring and inviting. It was one of Leia's favorite places to be kissed. "I'm just glad I was here to help." His kiss moved down to her lips, another one of Leia's favorite places. "I'm always gonna be here," he added as she answered his kiss with one of her own. His arms went around her as she came up on her toes, molding her body into his.

"Are you tired?" Leia asked him, a little breathlessly, as the kisses ended.

"Not anymore," he reassured her. Han scooted Leia back a little, taking in her free-flowing hair and sensual outfit. "You look nice." He leaned in to give her another kiss. "You smell nice, too."

Leia nuzzled into his neck. "So do you."

"No I don't; but give me five minutes in the shower and—"

Leia's comlink buzzed. Right now, it sounded much louder and more intrusive than usual.

"_Kriff!"_she said again.

"Your Worship, you're starting to sound like a Corellian!" Han said proudly.

Leia looked at her link. "It's Luke," she announced. "I really can't just ignore it." Leia thumbed the device on.

"Leia! Are you alright?" Her brother's voice sounded before Leia had a chance to speak.

Leia seemed honestly puzzled. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

Across the room, Leia could see Han's shoulders shake with silent laughter as he shrugged out of his shirt. _Threepio_, he mouthed. Leia rolled her eyes.

"Threepio's here," Luke explained. "He said you were being attacked, or maybe you were having an attack." Leia could hear exasperation in his voice now. "He wasn't making much sense," he continued. "He's with Artoo now."

"Luke, I'm sorry. Threepio must have misunderstood what I said." Leia's attention veered as she watched Han step out of his pants. She felt her heart speed up. "Can you tell him that he's through here for the night? He can stay with Artoo if he wants. If that's okay with you," she reluctantly added.

"Han made it back?" Luke made it more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah. He and Chewie got in a little while ago." Leia shoved half-heartedly at Han, who was whispering in her ear. _"You don't have to blush, your Worship…we're married."_

"Chewie's not going to show up here too, is he?"

"Of course not!" Leia objected immediately. "He's gone to his own place." Then she picked up the teasing tone in her brother's voice. "Very funny!"

"Have a good night, Leia. Say hi to Han." Luke disconnected as Han saluted the 'link. He was down to a towel and nothing else.

"I plan to," Leia said into the dead 'link.

"I'm just going to grab a shower," Han gave Leia a quick peck, then headed to the 'fresher.

Leia watched the twitch of Han's hips as he sauntered away, the towel slung low on his waist. Then, with a smile, she hurried after him, catching up just as he started to close the door. "Yeah," she said, "I'm going to grab something, too."

Her hand snaked out for the towel, just as the 'fresher door shut behind them.


End file.
